


The Magic Of Christmas

by Lire_Casander



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lire_Casander/pseuds/Lire_Casander





	The Magic Of Christmas

Harry Potter was completely trashed. If he was honest with himself, he had had three Firewhiskeys and a particularly strong dry Martini, so it was logical that he had lost it by the third glass of mulled wine, but he made up excuses to himself – the only reason why he was spending the Christmas Ball drunken was because he needed to mould up the courage to talk to the wizard he had been dreaming about for months.

At his right, Draco Malfoy swatted away Harry’s hand when the brunet was about to grab his fourth glass. “It’s enough, Harry. Can you please stop drinking like mad and get over there to talk to Smith?” Draco pointed towards the blond wizard who was happily talking to some people in the middle of the dance floor. “If you don’t get near him you will never tell him how you feel.” He pushed Harry towards Zacharias smith, the wizard Harry had been crushing on, and waited at the table they shared with the Weasel and Hermione Granger.

“Why have you done that, Draco?” asked the witch, blinking. “Why have you sent him over Zach?”

“Because of he doesn’t talk to Smith today I am going to explode. He has been talking about the git for months on end, I can’t take it anymore.”

“That’s not the reason. And you know it.”

“What do you want me to say?” Draco shrugged. “That’s the truth.”

“It’s the season of whishes come true, Draco,” Hermione explained. “Maybe if you wish for it to happen, you can have your own happy ending.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” slurred a wasted Ron Weasley.

“Don’t worry, Ron.” Hermione rolled her eyes at her drunken boyfriend. “Really, Draco, I know how you feel. It’s written all over your face when you look at him, but don’t fret, Harry is as oblivious as always.”

“And what do you want me to do?” what do you mean with all that talk about this season? I am way too old to sit on Santa’s knee and ask for a wish to come true.”

“He doesn’t love Zach, Draco. I know that, and you know that too. But you are as oblivious as Harry when you want to. Just let me tell you something. Why do you think all the wizards Harry had had a crush on are insufferable blond gits? Give it a thought, and you’ll have the answer to your questions.”

Draco looked over where Harry was trying to speak to Smith – it seemed to be going smoothly, if Smith’s hand creeping around Harry’s waist was somehow telling. A surge of jealousy stabbed im, and he looked away. He was done with all that shit; he stood up and tried to get out of there, purposely missing Granger’s pitiful glaze. Maybe if he walked away from Harry he could stop the pain in his chest.

He reached the door and stepped outside to the cold breeze with a sigh of relief that didn’t ease his pain. He had given up any chance to be happy for Harry, he admitted to himself – he was not what Harry deserved , and that was why he had refused to pursue his heart’s true desire. He held back the tears that threatened to roll down his cheeks. Suddenly, a hot breath tickled his ear. “What are you doing here all alone?” asked a voice he knew so well. “’Mione told me you had gone outside.”

“Shouldn’t you be inside snogging Smith senselessly?” Draco asked, his voice just a whisper.  
“Why should I?”

“Harry, you’ve been pinning for him for months, and from the way he was holding you I assumed you were going to spend some quality time together,” Draco informed his partner. “Isn’t it what you wanted?”

“No, Draco, it isn’t.” Harry sounded more sober than he had been all night, and Draco suspected that Hermione had hit him with a Sobering Spell. “I’ve had an epiphany tonight.”

A shiver ran up Draco’s spine when Harry got closer, his back resting comfortably on Harry’s chest, feeling impossibly right and fitting – it was as if their bodies had been made for each other. “What--- What kind of epiphany?”

“I don’t want to lose you,” Harry said plainly, making Draco turn around in his arms to look at the blond in the eye.

“You’re not losing me, I still work with you, remember?”

“No, Draco. I don’t want to lose _you_ for some stupid fling, some one-night stand that I wouldn’t have remembered in the morning.”

“I--- I don’t know what you mean.” Draco gulped, his mind fogged by Harry’s proximity and the words he was saying. “I--- I will still work with you even if you make out with all the Ministry workers.” He knew he was not making any sense, but he couldn’t stop his rambling.

“There’s only one Ministry worker I’d like to kiss right now.” Harry smiled warmly, a myriad of feelings reflected in his green eyes. “Only one person in the world I’d like to be with in this very moment, Draco, if only he would let me.”

“Then go to him and ask,” Draco said, afraid of what he was seeing in Harry’s eyes. “I--- I have to go back home.”

“What would be your answer, Draco, if I upped and told you I’d been in love with you for half my life?” Harry asked straight away, his voice trembling a little.

“The question is, what would the man of your dreams say?”

“Then let me re-word it properly.” Harry hadn’t let him go, and Draco was growing nervous – he wasn’t sure about what was happening. “I love you, Draco. I’ve been in love with you since our school days. Will you let me love you?”

Draco was taken aback by the sincerity of the words he was hearing, words he had never expected to exist, to come out Harry’s mouth and be directed to him. He blinked back tears, bit his lips and finally spoke in a very low voice. “Why would you love me, Harry? There’s nothing here to interest you, nothing in me. I’m not what you need.”

“This is not about what I need, but about what I want. There’s plenty of things in you to interest me – you’re a wonderful person with an incredibly sharp humour and a high ability to be lovable. Why wouldn’t I love you?”

Draco searched Harry’s eyes for the slightest signal of mockery, but there wasn’t any. He opened his mouth, closed it, words refusing to form in his throat as he watched his very own dream coming true. “We’re underneath mistletoe, Draco. Will you let me kiss you?” Draco could only nod, unable to speak.

And when Harry’s lips were on his own, Draco knew what bliss was – he knew what Hermione had meant. It was like a wish, like a promise fulfilled.

Or maybe it was the magic of Christmas.  



End file.
